


The War for the Dawn

by White_Wolf31



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25573816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Wolf31/pseuds/White_Wolf31
Summary: Jon and Daenerys march north to face the army of the dead, but can old hatreds be put to rest or will the living loose before the battle has even begun.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Cersei Lannister & Jaime Lannister, Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow & Arya Stark, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 23
Kudos: 34





	1. The Journey North

**Author's Note:**

> Starting from Season 7 but with a few changes:  
> No Wight hunt so no undead dragon and no boatsex for Jon and Daenerys (not yet at least.)

**CHAPTER ONE**

**The Journey North**

The journey was a tiresome one. Thousands of men were marching down the Kingsroad, faces set with set with determination; but cracks of weariness had started to show. In truth, they had started off well, ever since the ships had docked at White Harbour, they had made good time. Travelled across acres of countryside and met with curious stares from farmers and villagers. But soon the snow had got deeper, thicker and heavier and so naturally the army slowed. At first, a boyish pride had brewed inside Jon Snow when he saw the surprise and struggle both the Unsullied and Dothraki were having with the endless amounts of snow. It really was a secret that only the Northerners could claim to understand. And yet the pride quickly vanished and festered into fear and doubt when Jon realised, he didn’t have long until he expected these men to fight in these conditions against an enemy that was unstoppable.

“The Unsullied are quick learners,” Ser Jorah had said when Jon mentioned his worries when they made camp.

“And the Dothraki?” Jon persisted.

A brief silence loomed. “They’re good fighter’s. Just show them the enemy and they’ll face it.” Ser Jorah finally said, although he would not meet Jon’s eyes.

Jon nodded his head, gave his thanks and headed for the tent brandishing the Direwolf Banner. From his estimations they had two days until they reached Winterfell and he watched as Dothraki Screamers and Unsullied Captains struggled to pitch their tents and control their horses in the “sea of white” as Jon overheard one Dothraki calling it.

Not at all reassured by his conversation with Ser Jorah, the moment Jon was inside his tent, he loomed over the map of the North that was displayed on a table and began thinking of how it best to deploy the soldiers in the Great Army. It had been decided that Wall would set the stage for the battle. On the boat to White Harbour, Tyrion had mocked the idea that the dead would cross the Wall. But Jon knew better. He couldn’t clear his mind of Hardhome: how the dead had thrown themselves off a cliff just to get to the living, and so he had planned to keep a portion of the army has a reserve, near The Last Hearth. They would dig trenches, build barriers, do they all that could to slow them down. Giving the reserve army more time to make clear and precise attacks.

“Do you not rest King Snow,” came a soothing voice that brought Jon from his thoughts.

Queen Daenerys Targaryen stood in Jon’s tent. She wore a regal gown of black with a fur covering of white and grey. Her face was flushed red from the cold and Jon smiled at the snowflakes that blended into her white hair.

“The Army of the Dead do not rest,” Jon murmured, realising he had been staring for too long. Daenerys tried her best to hide the smile that had appeared on her face; but Jon Snow’s longing stares brought warmth to her chest even in these temperatures. She moved to stand by him, looking at the map of the North.

“It’s rather impressive,” she commented. “The maps don’t do it justice.”

Jon smirked. “You should see North of the Wall; it was beautiful and terrifying all at once. If that’s possible?”

“I know what you mean,” Daenerys quickly said. “I once travelled across the Red Waste – I feared my people and I would die. It was endless and torturous and yet now, when I look back, knowing I survived, there was a beauty to its simplicity.”

Jon hadn’t taken her eyes off as she spoke, he smiled at the dreamy expression that had dawned her face. He wondered if that’s how he looked when he thought of North of the Wall. _‘Probably less attractive,’_ he thought, but quickly pushed it from his mind.

It would do no one any good if he got distracted by the beauty of the Dragon Queen.

“Once the Dead are defeated, I would like to see North of the Wall.” Daenerys said, as she moved around the table to get a better look at the land labelled as ‘Beyond the Wall.’

Jon frowned. “Not many have the desire to venture out there.”

Daenerys met his eyes. “Surely, as Queen it is my duty to know all my lands.”

Jon nodded. “The Free-folk are best to guide you; they understand the lands better than anyone.”

“Actually,” Daenerys began, in a much quieter voice than usual, so much so Jon became worried. “I was hoping you’d guide me.” If Jon wasn’t mistaken a blush had appeared on the Queen’s face.

He did his best to push the roar that had risen up inside his chest; a roar or lust, pride and happiness. “It would be my pleasure. Once the war is over.”

Jon gave her a knowing look, hoping she understood. The Dragon Queen sighed: “Well I suppose venturing out into a wasteland when an army of dead-men control it would not be my wisest idea.”

Jon let out a bark of laughter. “I’m sure your counsel would have something to say if you suggested it.”

“I’m sure they would,” Daenerys remarked, joining in on Jon’s laughter.

“Although, Tyrion did once make the gruelling journey to the Wall just to piss off the edge.”

Daenerys snorted. “Did he really?”

“The folly of Youth,” replied a voice, not belonging to Jon Snow. Tyrion Lannister was standing at the entrance of the tent. “Forgive the intrusion, your grace, but I came seeking our Queen. Grey Worm told me you were here.” Tyrion briefly nodded to Jon, before fixing his gaze on Daenerys. “Lord Varys sends word from Dragonstone.” “

Daenerys flexed her hand. “Is all well?” she asked, a hint of worry in her voice. Tyrion sent a quick look towards Jon, who remained still.

“All well your grace,” Tyrion said returning his gaze to his Queen. “No attempt from any force to occupy the island, it seems my sister is keeping to her word.”

“Good. I may have doubted you Lord Tyrion, but it seems your efforts might pay off.” Daenerys fixed him with a hard stare, before she let her mouth form a smile.

“Thank you, my Queen.” Tyrion bowed his head.

“King Snow was just going over his war plans before we both intruded,” Daenerys began in much more regal tone, her hand gesturing at the maps that lay across the table. “Anything we should be aware of?”

Jon stood tall. “Just more thoughts on the reserve army.”

Tyrion did best to hold in a snort, causing Jon to glare at the smaller man. “Are we still…committed to the idea of a reserve army?” Tyrion questioned, moving closer towards the table. “I don’t think it wise to split our forces, when you say this army is greater than anything anyone has ever face before.”

“You have complete faith that the Wall will stand.” Jon replied. “The Wall has stood for 8000 years, it stood during Aegon’s conquest and it still stands today.” Tyrion commented, not keeping the derision he felt out of his tone.

Jon shook his head. “I defended the Wall against Mance Rayder. He marched on us with 100,000 men, including Giants and Mammoths. And he nearly breached the gate. The Night King has an army of the same size, with undead Giants, undead Mammoths and anything else that was North of the Wall.” He spat. “Not to mention the countless White Walkers that command his ranks, who know magic and have access to dark secrets that we know not. You forget Lord Tyrion that I commanded that Wall, so believe me when I tell you no matter how hard we fight, no matter how hard we try he will breach it, so we need to be ready when he does!” Jon closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

It had been a long time since he felt rage build up in him like that, but he was fed up of people not taking the threat seriously.

Tyrion gaped like a fish.

“If King Snow says we should split the army then we should split the army. I have faith in him and so should you.” Daenerys spoke, glaring at her Hand.

Jon sent her a grateful smile.

Tyrion nodded and kept his eyes on the ground. “I am sorry King Snow, forgive me. Part of me still seems that boy seeking honour and adventure, I forgot how much you have endured and seen.”

Jon moved closer to his friend and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We both endured much, but now together, we can use it to our advantage.”

Tyrion met his eyes and smiled.

“It’s getting late, mayhaps we should all turn in,” Daenerys said. Both Jon and Tyrion agreed. Tyrion made his goodbyes his Queen and King Snow before he parted the tent. Jon turned and almost began to untie the lace on his leathers when he realised Daenerys had not left the tent. Instead, she was staring at him with a strange expression.

“Your grace?” Jon said, a hint of confusion and worry. Daenerys began pouring herself a cup of wine from an untouched flagon.

“I was hoping, if you don’t find it too much bother, that you could fill me in on what to expect from your family when we arrive.” Jon had been expecting this. The conversation had first been brought up once they left White Harbour. Daenerys had been rather pleased with the way the joyful Lord Manderly had met them and she had vocalised how maybe the Northerners went so opposed to a southern Queen has everyone said. Ser Jorah had quickly striped her of that notion and warned her that the people of Winterfell, who were the very heart of the north would be less welcoming, despite the fact she would arrive alongside their brother and King.

“What would you like to know?” he asked, taking the seat next to Daenerys.

Daenerys sipped her wine. “The Lady Sansa, Tyrion informs me she has endured horrors that not many would survive.” Jon nodded, already not liking where this conversation was going. “It would naturally harden ones soul when dealing with outsiders and newcomers. How best can I please her?”

Jon was silent for a long time before he finally spoke: “It’s true. She will be hard and cold towards you, but she has not forgotten her teachings. You are a Queen and she will show you the respect you deserve. However, if you try and demand her respect it will only make her colder towards you.” Jon stopped, making sure Daenerys was following what she was saying, she gave a curt nod, so he carried on. “Pleasing her? Just do what you are doing now. Bringing an army to help save our people, show her you don’t want to conquer the north but save it.”

Daenerys took another sip of wine, clearly pondering on what she had heard. “And of your other sister. Arya Stark?”

The name was like another knife had been plunged inside his chest. When the news had first reached Jon, he had been ecstatic at his favourite sisters survival and return home, those thoughts however, quickly turned sour. Alone in the wild for seven years should have killed her and Jon didn’t like to think what she must have done to survive, what horrors she must have faced. He wished he could have been there to save her, to wrap her in his arms and protect her from the cruelty of the world.

“I’m afraid she’s as much a stranger to me as she is to you.” Jon stammered. “When she was younger, she wanted to be a warrior, she hated the fact she had to learn how to sew whilst we would learn how to fight.”

Daenerys smiled. “I like the sound of her.”

“We loved one another the most, we we’re each other’s favourites…I don’t know what she’s seen or what she’s been through.”

Daenerys took Jon’s hand in her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She was smooth and soft, whilst he was scarred and rough.

“How did you scar your hand?” Daenerys asked breaking the tense silence.

Jon smirked. “Fire.”

“Do tell.” Daenerys smiled back.

“It was my first wight, it attacked me in the Lord Commanders chambers, my sword did not stop it. So, I did the only thing I could think of, I grabbed a lantern and threw it. The wight caught fire and died, I on the other hand caught fire and scarred.” Jon flexed his right hand.

“It’s a good thing you won’t be dealing with the fire breathing dragons.” Daenerys whispered.

Jon laughed. “Arya liked dragons,” he whispered, the memory suddenly coming back to him. “She was fascinated by Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys, Arya always liked to remind us that they had been dragon riders too.”

Daenerys grinned. “Well, I know exactly what to do to please her.”

An image of his baby sister riding a dragon came to Jon’s mind and he too shared Daenerys’s grin.

“What of Brandon?” Daenerys asked. Jon frowned; he did not know best to say about his younger brother. The last time he had seen him he had been in a coma after falling from the tower. A fall that left him crippled.

“In truth, I know not what Bran will be like when we arrive in Winterfell. When I left, he was but a boy, he’ll be a man grown by now.” Jon began.

“Tyrion informs me he had an accident that left him injured?” Daenerys asked in a reproachful tone, not wanting to insult the man sat opposite her.

Jon gave a solemn nod. “He lost the use of his legs. But he has survived even still. When Winterfell was taken by the Greyjoys Bran went north of the Wall. He has survived out there for years, he must have seen all manner of things.”

“You Starks are certainly tough.” And for the second time that night another memory came back to Jon. Of a crowded courtyard and two brothers saying their farewells. _“You Starks are hard to kill,”_ he had said to Robb. _“Next time I see you, you’ll be all in black.”_ It truly was cruel that he never got to see his brother again, he often hoped Robb would agree with the actions he was making as King.

“The Lone Wolf dies but the pack survives.” Jon murmured. Upon noticing the frown that had appeared on Daenerys’s face he continued: “Something my father would say, it’s a shame we didn’t listen to him.”

“Your pack will be reunited soon.”


	2. A Royal Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Jon and Queen Daenerys arrive at Winterfell.

CHAPTER TWO

A Royal Arrival 

She lurked in the crowd, her hood hiding her face. The air was a buzz with nervous excitement, the horn from Winterfell and sounded signifying the approaching army. Arya had left immediately and made her way gather with the men, women and children of Wintertown. She knew she should feel bad at leaving Sansa to deal with the formal greetings, but her older sister had always been better on these occasions. 

As the marching of soldiers grew louder the chatter between the townsfolk ceased. An endless army became visible to them, they were dressed in dark armour and held their spears high in the air. The townsfolk's mouths hung low and even Arya was impressed with the advancing army; they moved with perfect timing, making them seem as one single being instead of an army of thousands. 

It wasn't until a shout from a Northerner did Arya move closer. 

"The King in the North!" 

Keeping her head low she glimpsed the one person she had been so excited to see since she had left Braavos. Astride a black stallion rode the King in the North, he was cloaked in wolf fur and wore the sigil of the great Direwolf across his metal plate. His dark hair was pinned back and his face bore the scars of both war and time. Sansa had warned Arya on how much Jon had grown to resemble their father, but she didn't believe her until she saw him with own eyes.

A warm feeling had stirred in her stomach at the sight of her favourite brother and it took everything in her power to stop herself calling out to him. She took a breath and controlled herself. Beside Jon rode women with silver hair that was tied in intricate braids and instantly Arya knew who she was. For all that she had heard of Daenerys Targaryen, Arya had not expected her to be so beautiful. Unfortunately for Arya, as quickly as Jon had come he was gone again, his eyes set on Winterfell. 

With her brother gone, Arya truly took in the sight of the army he was bringing, their timing and discipline was unlike anything she had seen before, she knew they would useful in the war to come. Just before she was about to turn, Arya caught a glimpse of another face she recognised with the army, only this was one she had not been expecting to see. It was half-burned and hairy, he wore battered old leathers and had one hand on the reigns the other on his sword. Arya did not know how The Hound (a man she had left for dead) had managed to join her brothers army. 

But before she could let this settle in her mind Arya caught sight of who was riding behind The Hound. This one was less scarred and less hairy but someone who Arya had also believed to be dead. She had lest seen him being dragged off by the Red Witch and images of him being burnt alive had plagued her mind ever since. He was dressed in fine leathers and a northern cloak covered his shoulders. Gendry the Blacksmith had certainly grown.

Questions brewing in her mind Arya turned and left the people of Wintertown, who were still watching the legions of soldiers. Snow crunched under her feet as she made her way home, suddenly a loud roar sent her diving to the ground and reaching for her dagger. Screams filled the air as two more roars sounded in the air. Overhead flew three large dragons. Arya crouched in the snow, a look of wondrous amazement on her face. 

Her brother had certainly brought with him a powerful force to fight the dead. 

Unlike her younger sister, Sansa was less amazed by the sight of the dragons, They flew over the busy Winterfell courtyard and into the distance. The Dragon Queen could end them with fire and blood whenever she liked. 

Sansa stood in the middle of the Winterfell courtyard, her brother to her right and an empty space to her left (that should have been filled by her sister.) Lady Brienne stood close behind and her faithful squire Pod next to her. Sansa took a deep breath as the Wintefell gates were opened. 

Jon rode in first, his eyes finding his family. At the sight of their King, the people of Winterfell knelt. Jon only had eyes for the pair in the middle, once seeing Bran he spurred himself forward. Jon quickly dismounted and wrapped himself around his last living brother. He gave a firm kiss on his forehead before he took in his brothers appearance: 

"Look at you, you're a man grown," Jon said. 

Bran smiled. "Almost."

Only then did Jon take in his brothers eyes, they had changed since the last time he saw time, like there was something missing. Before Jon could say anymore Bran shook his head. Slightly disheartened Jon rose to his feet; it was hardly the joyful reunion he had left himself dream. Jon moved to his left and embraced his sister. "Are you well?" Sansa whispered. 

"Aye. You?" 

She nodded against his shoulder. 

"Where's Arya?" Jon asked as he and Sansa let go of one another. 

Sansa smiled, the longing in Jon's tone was the same as Arya's when she had asked about his whereabouts when she first arrived home. 

"Lurking, somewhere at best guess." 

Sansa's eyes snapped towards the gate. Daenerys Targaryen had ridden into Winterfell. 

All eyes followed her as she dismounted and made her way towards the middle of the courtyard. "May I present Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen." Jon said smoothly. "My sister, Sansa Sansa, the Lady of Winterfell." 

Daenerys was first to speak: "The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed, as are you Lady Sansa." 

"Winterfell and its people are at your disposal, your grace." Sansa said giving her a courteous smile. Which Queen Daenerys returned. 

There was a tense moment of silence across the courtyard until Jon spoke: "I think it best we settle in, it has been a long journey and we have much to discuss." 

Sansa agreed. "I have prepared people to show you to your chambers." Sansa motioned to the servants who had now appeared at her side. They eyed Daenerys with uncertainty. 

"Thank you Lady Sansa, that is very gracious."

"We shall meet in an hour." Jon said to Daenerys, who nodded and followed the servants who had already made their way into Winterfell. Ser Jorah came forward and set off after his Queen.

Daenerys had hoped she would have been allowed to take in more of Winterfell on her arrival but her guides moved with haste, she didn't blame them, she knew she must have been a intimidating sight. Despite the safety she felt inside the castle, Daenerys did feel a rush of gratitude when the familiar movement of Ser Jorah appears by her side. The servants stopped infront of a large wooden door, they bowed as Daenerys entered. The chamber itself was of a decent size, with a large bed in the middle, impressive amounts of furs draped of the side. Candles had already been lit and on the table was a bowl of food and a flagon of wine. 

"We will have your belongings brought for you, your grace." One of the servants said, keeping her eyes on her feet. 

"Thank you very much, the chamber is rather impressive." The servants eyes shot up briefly and she shared a small smile with the Queen. Once they were gone Ser Jorah shut the door. 

'What do you think, Khaleesi?" came his gruff northern voice. 

Daenerys met his eyes and she smiled. Before she could pour herself a goblet of wine, Ser Jorah held up his hand. He took the flagon and sniffed at its contents. "I hardly think Lady Sansa would have poisoned my wine, Ser Jorah." 

"Lady Sansa is not the one who would have dealt with the wine." With that he poured himself a goblet and drank it down. Nothing happened. Daenerys gave him a poignant look. "Better safe than sorry, Khaleesi. Not everyone here is glad be your arrival, to some the name Targaryen still incites the image of the Mad King." 

Daenerys nodded. "I know Ser Jorah. Luckily I have my faithful Queensguard by my side." 

As promised large chests containing Daenerys's belongings had been brought and placed inside the room. Her friend Missandei and accompioned them and together, along with some Winterfell servants they had started to unpack. The servants couldn't help but fawn over the intricate and impressive design of many of Daenerys's dresses, something that made her extremely pleased. 

A knock stopped her from discussing them however. She opened the door and was met with the sight of Jon Snow. 

He smiled warmly and said: "The meeting is about to start, I think it best we enter together." 

"I concur." With that she left Missandei in charge and walked out with Jon. 

Ser Jorah hung back behind them, as they made their way to the main hall. "Are your chambers suitable?" Jon asked. 

"It's wonderful. I don't think I have ever seen a bed need so many furs." Daenerys joked. 

"Aye, it does get cold here. Although we have the hot springs that heat the walls." 

"And here was me thinking that was the fire in my blood." 

Jon laughed. _'For a man who was fond of brooding he certainly had a joyful laugh,'_ Daenerys thought. 

When Jon opened the doors to the main hall, Daenerys wanted to gasp, for some reason she had expected it only be herself, Jon and their advisors but of course it was brimming with people. The majority being Northern Lords. Together they walked up to the main table, where Lady Sansa, Ser Davos and Lord Tyrion were already seated. Daenerys ignored the daggers that were being sent her way and the eery silence that had formed as soon as she had entered. Ser Jorah made his way to the side, his hand tightly grasped around his sword as Jon and Daenerys took their seats in the centre. 

Jon stood. "It is good to be home, my lords. I am gladdened to see you all here. My journey was a successful one, as you can see I have brought with Queen Daenerys, her armies of Unsullied and Dothraki, her three fully grown dragons and more Dragonglass than we could ever use." Gone was the voice of Jon Snow, and he used the voice of a King. "Cersei Lannister has also pledged her support to fight the dead." 

With that there was a loud hiss and murmuring throughout the hall. Lord Glover stood: "How can you expect us to fight alongside the men who murdered our brothers, our sons, our fathers." There was a loud thumping of agreement on the tables. 

Jon nodded. "I understand your pain my Lord. She is after all, the women who help murder my father and brother. But the army we will face cares not if you Stark, Lannister, Glover or Targaryen. To them we are all the same, meat for their army. To defeat them we all need work together." 

The hall murmured in agreement. 

"Do you truly trust the Lannister Queen?" Lady Mormont asked. "What if her men turn on us as soon as they arrive." 

Before Jon could answer, Tyrion stood. "My sister maybe many things, cruel and heartless to think of a few. But she is no fool. She knows of the true threat now and the Lannister army will support us." 

Daenerys stood. "Like my Hand says, the Lannister army will support us. But if they were to turn, you have my word, my Unsullied and Dothraki would fight with you until the end. We already gave them a hell of a fight during the battle of the Goldroad. Together we would wipe out the army with ease." 

Banging of goblets seemed to imply the Northern Lords were pleased with Daenerys's answer, something that made her smile, however her answer also received her a woeful look from Tyrion.

Jon faced the Lords once again. "It will not come to that, you have my word that will fight alongside us." 

"I think a better question is can we trust the Mad Queens daughter!" an unknown voice called from the back of the hall. It was as if everyone had been awaiting this question, but too afraid to speak it, because now all eyes were on Daenerys Targaryen. 

Taking a deep breath she stood: "Great Lords and Lady's of the North and the Vale. On behalf of House Targaryen you have me deepest apologies for the actions of my father. He truly was an evil man, one who you rightly fought against. I ask you not to judge a daughter for the sins of her father." Daenerys took a breath. "Any promise I make on now I am not like my father I know will fall on deaf ears and rightly so you don't know me. ButI have brought my armies north to help felt alongside you as any ruler should, and I hope you will see for yourselves that I am much more than the Mad Queens Daughter.

Together, we will defeat the dead and once that is done I will defeat Cersei Lannister and sit the Iron Throne. I know Westeros has faced its share of poor Kings, from madmen to butchers, to those too young to even wear the crown. But with me on the throne a new age will start; an age where the North and South work together to provide a better world for all it's people. An age ruled by a Targaryen Queen and a Stark King!" 

Silence. 

Daenerys wasn't sure if she would have preferred shouts of outrage and disgust rather than nothing at all. At least from that she would have gaged a reaction on how they felt. It wasn't until a northern soldier banged his goblet and murmured in agreement did the rest follow. And Daenerys let out a breath that she didn't even know she had been holding in.

"What plans have been devised for the war, your grace?" Lord Royce questioned, standing to his feet, once the noise died down. 

Jon was pleased the talk had moved onto the actual battle. "We will march on the Wall on a few days time. We will reinforce the walls and build extra defences. As we speak weapons are being forged with the Dragonglass, as well as barrels of pitch being prepared. Anyone unable to fight will remain here at Winterfell. My sister has already offered sanctuary to anyone unable to fight that live in the most northern villagers." Jon paused for a moment, making sure everyone was listening. "I have also made the decision to split out forces-" 

At that there was a quick outburst of surprise which made Jon talk louder "-split our forces, some will remain behind at the Last Hearth and prepare it incase we need a retreat. Trenches will be dug as well siege weapons." 

"Do you expect a retreat?" Lord Glover asked. 

Jon shook his head. "I'd rather us plan for it and not need it, instead of being fucked in our arse if the Wall falls." 

Some Lords murmured in agreement whilst others were so flabbergasted by the mere mention of the Wall falling they remained silent. 

"A wise decision, your grace," called Lord Royce. Jon was thankful for the mans support, after all he was a proven battle commander and commanded a large part of the forces that made up Jon's army. Jon also noticed that the Lords who were still doubting the splitting of the army now too seemed to be in agreement. And Jon couldn't help himself but send a sly glance over to Lord Tyrion. 

"What of Manderly and his forces. I do hope the old merman isn't planning on hiding between his tail" Lord Glover joked, causing much laughter throughout the whole, including Jon. 

Once the laughter died-out Jon spoke: "Lord Manderly is on his way, he was preparing his forces when I docked at White Harbour. He will be here to march on the Wall alongside us." 

Goblets banged on the tables in pleasure. 

"What food provisions do we take with us?" came the voice of Lord Cerywn (who up until now had remained rather quiet.) 

Lady Sansa stood. "We are well stocked on grain and food, my lord." 

"I've also brought wagons of food my lords. We brought with us a portion of food stores from the Reach and there is plenty for us all to share." Daenerys spoke. And for a third time her answer awarded her the sounds of approval from the Lords.

When the hall became silent once more Jon spoke: "If that is all my lords, I suggest you rest up. It is a long march to the Wall. Or if you'd rather stay in the hall and enjoy it's warmth and drink by all means do. I know I have certainly missed it!" The lords laughed and banged their goblets on the table as Jon took his seat, and poured himself a flagon of ale and drank deep.

"That went well," he said loud enough for only those on the top table to hear, as he wiped ale from his mouth. 

"Aye," Ser Davos agreed. 

"I trust the talk of the Lannister army stabbing us in the back is done?" Tyrion muttered, not meeting his Queens eyes. 

Jon nodded. "I am sorry my friend, but you know it is hard for them. Not long ago they were fighting against them in a war." 

"And I was Hand to King Joffrey, but look at me now," Tyrion commented, pouring himself a goblet of ale. 

"They'll come around, once they see the army of the dead and realise a Lannister isn't the worse thing in the world." 

Tyrion smiled at his friends jape. 

"What do you think?" Jon asked, leaning closer to Sansa. 

She gave him a warm smile and said: "I think they have missed their King and are glad you've returned home." 

Jon stared out at his people: Lord Glover was drinking and laughing at the same time and was now wearing more ale than he swallowed, Lady Mormont clapped one of her men around the head and stole from him his goblet and took a big gulp, Lord Royce entertained some eager young soldiers with his story's of war and Lord Cerywn sat with his hand clenched around a mans hand that sat opposite him, his face straining red as he tried to bring it to the table first. Jon couldn't help but think that this would be the last sense of happiness these people would have for a very long time. 

With that thought he excused himself and snuck out quietly at the back of the hall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Wall is still standing as Jon never went North and so the Night King never had the chance to kill Viserion.


	3. Stark and Snow

**CHAPTER THREE**

**STARK and SNOW**

Gone were the days that Jon Snow could move around Winterfell without being noticed, whenever a servant or guard saw him coming they would fall on one knee and proudly say: "The King in the North." Long ago he would dream of moments like these, he had once thought being Lord Commander of the Nights Watch would be the highest honour he could hope to earn, he only hoped it would end in a much happier way. The cold, sharp feeling of steel was one he had not forgotten and hoped he would never have to feel again. 

The raucous cheers and yells died down as Jon made his way further away from the Great Hall, clearly the fact their King had disappeared from the hall did not deter the Lords of the North from getting drunk. He was pleased how the meeting had gone, in truth he had expected more questions and more backlash from the Northern Lords, Jon knew they would never submit to another southern ruler willingly (and rightly so after all they had been put through) but he supposed the two great armies and three dragons that Queen Daenerys had brought may have subdued their anger. And once they fight along side one another and see how Daenerys is willing to risk her life for them, Jon was sure they would be happy to help her win the Iron Throne and call her Queen. 

Jon stopped as he reached the yard, wagons and craits had taken up much of the space. Their were groups of both northmen and unsullied carrying large amounts of the black volcanic glass that Jon had brought back with him from Dragonstone. A northern guard stood at the side yelling instructions and directions (for the unsullied) and what to do with the dragon glass once they reached the forge. 

"All going well?" Jon asked the Northern guard, who had stopped yelling once he saw his King approaching. 

He nodded enthusiastically. "Aye, your grace. That blacksmith you brought is doing a fine job, these foreign soldier' are very helpful too," he said as an unsullied passed with a large handful of dragon glass. 

"Good to hear," Jon said as he clapped the guard on the shoulder and continued on his way. He was pleased Gendry had settled in quickly, the young lad had talked long and hard about his skills as a blacksmith on the journey north, he had apprenticed for many years in Kings Landing and Ser Davos had said how Gendry had had his own forge on the street of steel when he found him in Kings Landing. Keeping Gendry busy in the forge had been Ser Davos's idea, he had come to him one night in White Harbour: 

"I think it's for the best if the lad is kept away from the Queen and her advisors," he had said. "He doesn't deserve to be seen as a threat."

And Jon couldn't agree more, he wasn't sure how Daenerys would react to learning King Robert's true born son was in their party, he also knew that were many over Westeros who would prefer the son of a Baratheon (even a bastard) over that of a Targaryen. So, both Jon and Davos had made sure that Gendry was kept out of the eyes of Tyrion Lannister and anyone else that might see the young Robert in his son. 

Snow crunched underneath Jon's feet as he made his way into the Godswood. The branches and vast amount of leaves that stemmed from the great oaks and ironwoods twisted together to make a dense canopy overhead, blocking the sun from view (that was already slightly hidden behind the clouds of the winter sky.) Jon found the silence almost comforting, their were few places he had gather his thoughts nowadays and this was one of them. However, the sight of the ancient weirwood caused a sigh to fall from Jon's lips. The bark was still white and even drooped in snow the red of the leaves could still be seen. The small pool that lay beside the tree had long been frozen over. Looking at the tree Jon could almost see his father sitting underneath it atop the stone he had often made his seat. 

Lord Stark had often came to the Godswood, the silence made it very easy to think, and so Jon had decided to continue this tradition, in fact he had come here soon after he was named King in the North. However, where is father may have found solace from speaking to the Old Gods, Jon only felt a sense of unease. The Red Witch had told him how she spoke to her fire Lord, how it was the Lord of Light that had given him life once more, how she had seen Jon take back Winterfell in an image in the flames. Despite what Jon thought about Melisandre and her religion he could no longer deny its power. 

A crunch of snow sent Jons hand to the hilt of Longclaw. He should've been the only one here, and whoever had made their way into the Godswood had done so ever so quietly. Too quietly for Jons liking.

"You used to be taller," came a voice from behind.

Jon turned, his hand still on Longclaw. It wasn't until he realised it was a pair of familiar grey eyes looking at him did he drop his hand.

"You used to be louder," he croaked.

Arya Stark ran and threw herself into the arms of her older brother. He lifted her off the ground with ease and large smiles had taken over their faces. Her arms found their place around his neck and she was reminded of the last time they had seen one another, a different time, a different life. They remained in a tight embrace for some time until Jon let her feet find the floor once more. His gloved hand cupped her cheek: 

"Look at you," he began. "I never thought I'd see you again." 

Arya mirrored her brothers smile. "And yet here we are. You're King in the North!" Arya said happily. 

"Aye, I've come much further than I ever thought possible." Jon's eyes dropped the sword that she wore around her hip, he recognised it immediately, and how could he not? He had spent hours in the forge with Mikken making sure the size, weight and design would be perfect. Jon had not expected her to still have it. Arya's eyes had followed Jon's and proudly she drew Needle from its scabbard. 

"Needle," they breathed together and they laughed. 

Jon frowned: "Have you ever used it?" he asked solemnly. 

Arya's eyes found Jon's. "Once or twice," she muttered. He nodded and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He knew that out there, she must have faced all manner of things. There was a clink as Needle was placed back into its home, and a small grin appeared on Arya's face when she caught sight of Longclaw poking out from Jon's cloak. 

Just like Arya had done, Jon followed his sisters eyes and he grinned has he proudly unsheathed Longclaw. He held it for Arya to take. 

"Valyrian Steel," Arya commented as she looked down upon the blade. 

"Jealous?" Jon joked. 

Arya flexed the sword in her hand, trying to find the balance. "Too heavy for me," she finally said. Her eyes found the pommel and once again she found her self smiling. "The White Wolf," she whispered proudly. 

Jon smirked. "Lord Commander Mormont found it fitting." Arya nodding in understanding, as she handed the sword back to her brother. 

The pair stood in silence, both taking in the fact that they were really here. Stark and Snow had found one another again, and they couldn't be happier. Arya couldn't remember a time that she had smiled this much and Jon hadn't felt the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest in a very long time. 

Finally, Arya asked the question that had been at the back of her mind since Sansa had told her when she first returned home: "How did you survive a knife in the heart?" 

"I didn't," Jon said simply. But the look in his sisters eyes knew that would not be enough. "I was brought back. Stannis Baratheon had come to defend the Wall, he brought with him a Red Woman. She returned after his defeat to the Boltons. It was her power that brought me back from the dead." 

Arya nodded, she was reminded of how long ago, she saw a man almost split in half and then brought back to the living once more. "What about you?" Jon asked, breaking her thoughts. "Where have you been?" 

Arya gaped like a fish, she knew the question would come sooner or later and she had been thinking long an hard on what to say to her brother. Did she confess to all the horrible, yet necessary acts she had committed since fleeing Kings Landing. Arya didn't think she could take seeing the look of disgust she knew would be in her brothers eyes if she admitted what she had done to the Freys. 

"It's a long story-" 

Jon nodded. "We have time," he said as he sat on a snow covered stone, he patted the space beside him and Arya took it. 

She started with how she fled Winterfell with a man of the Nights Watch: Yoren. "I wasn't there long before he left," Jon informed her. Arya began how she made friends with the blacksmith from Kings Landing - Gendry. This left Jon rather confused: "He didn't say he knew you?" he muttered, he liked Gendry, why would he not say he knew his sister? If she was outraged by this Arya didn't show it and she continued with her story. She spoke of Harrenhal and the Brotherhood, her journey with The Hound and how she had tried to get a ship to the Wall." 

Jon took her hand: "I did try and come to you, when I first heard, I fled the Watch in the night. But my brothers brought me back, I had taken my vows and then we went North of the Wall soon after." Arya squeezed Jon's hand. 

"I took a ship to Braavos where I helped a group of actors. They took me in and looked after me, but in the end I knew I belonged here. When I got word of you defeating the Boltons and being crowned King I returned to Winterfell at once." 

Jon leant down and kissed her forehead. "We're together again." 

"What about you? You said you went north of the wall?" Arya quizzed. It was Jon's turn to relate his journey, he spoke of the great ranging led by Lord Commander Mormont, on how the land Beyond the Wall was unlike anything he had seen before, how he pretend to join the Free-Folk to get information for the Watch, he mentioned Ygritte and he couldn't stop his voice cracking. This time Arya took her brothers hand and gave it a knowing rub. "I managed to get back to Castle Black and that's when I heard of Robb and your lady mother." 

Arya nodded, she hadn't told anyone that she had been there, she saw what they did to her brothers body and it was something she would never forget. 

Jon spoke about defending the Wall against Mance Rayder, how Stannis came to their rescue, the journey to Hardhome and how he faced the dead. 

"What are they like?" 

"Like nothing you've ever seen before. They don't fight like men, they clammer over one another, they throw themselves at blades even off cliffs just to get to you. The White Walkers are worse. Their silent yet strong, their blades of ice destroy normal weapons. Longclaw managed to stop one, that's how I killed it."

"You killed a White Walker?" Arya asked amazed, she sounded like a little girl again. 

"Aye," Jon nodded. "But it wasn't enough, we had to flee. But I saw him Arya. I saw the Night King. He raised his arms and all those they had slaughtered stood up, their eyes now blue." 

Arya gulped against her better judgement. She was taken back to Old Nan's stories of the Long Night and the Last Hero. 

"Do you think we can beat them?" she asked. 

Jon thought for a moment. "Aye, I really do. We have a great number of men and three fully grown dragons. We will reenforce the Wall and stop them before the Long Night can even begin." 

Arya nodded, something in her brothers voice made her believe him instantly. If Jon said they could win, then they could win. 

As Jon continued with his story, she couldn't help but notice how he did his best not to mention the mutiny that cost him his life. Arya supposed it most have been a horrific event and she assumed her brother was still confused as to why he had been brought back to life. Arya wouldn't mention it again. 

With both tales done, Jon and Arya sat in silence, just happy to be in each others company once again. Finally, once night began to fell they decided it would be smart to return, it wouldn't belong before Sansa sent a search party out. And so, brother and sister stood, wide grins on their faces as they returned to the castle. 


End file.
